Okay… this really WILL be short takes, because I have zero time to think about this.
Tea Party Rallies. “We want our country back?” Seriously? When did you lose it, exactly? You who appear to be richer, whiter, and more well educated than the rest of us. Last I looked you were doing pretty well. You’ve got a timid Democratic president, a cowardly Democratic congress, and a conservative judiciary. So how does this differ from four years ago when you ran everything? As recently as two years ago, you had a split Senate, the presidency, and a narrow minority in the House. No one has raised your taxes. No one wants your guns. Obama’s going to drill baby drill. W.t.f., come back when you’ve got something to complain about.
Palintology. Speaking of tea parties, Sarah Palin strikes me 
like some annoying neighbor up the street who has a voice like a grammar school bugle (as well as an upcoming show on Animal Planet that I encourage you to join Defenders of Wildlife in protesting.) I would say she annoys me, but I know that’s the whole point of her – annoying leftists – so I refuse to cooperate. So instead I’ll just say…. HOWDY, NEIGHBOR! Or should I give a nod to Jello Biafra and just say, “SIEG HOWDY!”?
Help yourself. Looks like ACORN got punked. Big surprise there. A group that works with poor people, helping them register to vote and make ends meet in some of the most impoverished communities in America. What a perfect target for right-wing screwballs! Of course, the famed videos were creatively edited (that jerk-ass pseudo journalist wasn’t wearing his pimp getup and exculpatory footage was deliberately excised). But no matter – success was had, mainly because the useless thing that passes for a party of the left (with a handful of honorable exceptions) would not rise in their defense (since they mostly represent bankers). Lesson: The right wins when the left folds. Want to win? Stop folding.
That’s all I’ve got. I’m freaking tired.
luv u,
jp
Yeah, big things are happening here at the Hammer Mill. Really big things. Like the giant garage sale Marvin (my personal robot assistant) has talked us all into participating in (and contributing to). That’s bigger than we really want it to be, frankly. For one thing, we don’t HAVE a garage. And if we DID have one, we wouldn’t sell it (we just got it in my imaginary world, for chrissake – what’s the matter with you, man?) Seriously, though, I think Marvin is selling everything we own, including all of our instruments. That’s like being up shit creek and selling your paddle in a garage sale. (In fact, it IS being up shit creek and selling the paddle… assuming some fool wants to buy it.)
Oh, damn. Didn’t mean to give you an inside look at our dissention in the ranks. Yeah, things are pretty rough around the edges in Big Green ville these days. Tempers are wearing thin… thin as the knees of our jeans. Ragged as the cuffs of our shirts. Threadbare as the ascot Lincoln still wears to dinner (even though we don’t do the ascot thing at dinner anymore – I’ve told him a dozen times!) Why, we may even resort to WORKING for a living. That may seem drastic to you, but it’s a real possibility. Don’t think we don’t have offers. (We don’t, but that’s another matter entirely.) There’s a little thing called opportunity … and a little thing called luck. One or the other of those little things may just get close enough to be considered a big thing here in the Cheney Hammer Mill.
In a way, the U.S. empire is like this enormous killing machine. It’s got a thousand arms, colossal legs, and it moves across the face of the earth, crushing, grabbing, burning everything in its path. The president sits in a cockpit in its forehead and works the controls. Bush had a great time with it – invited his friends on board, and took it for a tear through Iraq. Then Obama took the helm. He promised to be more responsible. But … it’s still a killing machine, built to do only one thing. No matter what lever you pull, what button you press, it kills. So … he starts pulling, pressing, etc. Kopassus is on the other end of one of those levers, and he’s thinking seriously about pulling that one.
Yeah, I’m losing track of day, time, even planet, solar system. I may even be working in base-12. (That would not be a good development, particularly with my bank balance.) Big Green and friends have been a little busy just lately – too busy, frankly, for the niceties of neighborly chats, friendly asides, opening mail, cooking dinner, and writing blog posts.
Marvin (my personal robot assistant) has zucchini to take to market – yet another one of his hare-brained business ventures. I haven’t seen the man-sized tuber in a couple of days, come to think of it – perhaps he was mistaken for a great bull zucchini. (Marvin is a little unsubtle. A zucchini would have to tell him it wasn’t a zucchini if it wanted to avoid the market stall.)
like no other time I can recall. America’s Oil and Gas Industry, Chevron, BP, and others, all trying to outdo one another with how dedicated they are to creating jobs, saving the environment, finding “solutions”, raising families, promoting public investment …. everything except generating massive profits, which is what they are ACTUALLY doing. I can’t imagine that, with all this promotional bullshit running on every channel, people aren’t getting more cozy with the idea of “drill, baby, drill”. (Sure, they always mention a full menu of energy options, including renewables, conservation, and others. But you and I both know they’re talking oil and gas.)
Oh, yes… the blog. As you can see, I’m at loose ends here. Just killing a little time between sessions. Matt put down a vocal the other day. (I wish he’d stop putting me down, man. I’m trying my BEST!) Next it’s my turn, but first Marvin (my personal robot assistant) needs to go in there and clean up the tracks a bit, do a little of his magic. (What kind of magic? Can’t say. It’s magic, damnit!) So while I’m just sitting here, I’m filling out crosswords, completing puzzlers, and… well… opening our overinflated mailbag. Some of these things have been sitting in there for six months or better. (I think I spy a christmas present…. from 1970…)
Okay, m’Lord, you see… “George” is a fictional character – a mad scientist, like Mitch Macaphee (who is, sadly, real). Not everyone in our songs is for real, okay? Sometimes we make up unlikely personages, like “Jane” or “Abraham Lincoln”, and sometimes we borrow them from other authors, like “Tarzan” and “Edward Teller”. And regarding the reclamation of Pangea, no worries… that will take some time, he-he-he…. sometime indeed…
point in the ad he says, “Taxes never made anyone healthy.” Interesting statement. I guess he’s never heard of Medicare, Medicaid, Social Security, various Health and Human Services programs, and any number of other government services, from OSHA to the FDA, that in some respect help us stay healthier as a result of tax revenues. Yeah, I know the ad is about a “sin” tax, but you can also see how taxes on cigarettes and alcohol have had a positive effect health-wise. In a sense, it’s just a way of having the price of something reflect the true cost. Sure, we want people to be healthier. But we also want to recover some of the cost of their NOT being healthy, like emergency care costs for people who sugar themselves into heart disease, stroke, diabetes, and the like. Don’t we?
And yet the philosophy continues to command respect. Somehow people like Grover Norquist and his ilk are still listened to, still asked for guidance. Meanwhile, the nation’s infrastructure is falling apart, our last major investments (beyond maintenance) in roads, bridges, tunnels, rail lines, etc., now decades old. A stiff wind storm knocks out power to whole states. Instead of investing in the future of this country, we’re putting band-aids over compound fractures. The most striking irony is that these programs are being starved by the kind of deficit hawks who constantly claim that they are doing this for our children and our grandchildren, i.e. not leaving them a huge debt. Fine. There’s a solution. Get people to understand that we need to pay for things, and that civilization is not free. That’s the central point of health reform, lackluster as it may be.
What’s been happening around these parts? Let’s see, now. A thing or two. We’ve got a crack in the earth going, as you know. Straight down to the chewy center. Less said about that the better, frankly. After all, we’re still officially squatters here at the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill, and if the actual owners of this renowned property had any idea of the shape it’s in (let alone the fact that there is a major crack in the Earth’s crust contained within), they would see us evicted, convicted, etc. Then there’s those mongooses again – you remember them, don’t you? We had some problems with mongooses some years back, taking over our beloved lean-to, then invading the mill and trying on our galoshes while we were gone. Very pesky fellows indeed. Well, they’re back. C’est la vie. (I think it’s all the greasy cooking the man-sized tuber has been doing. More on that later.)
What about the man-sized tuber? Well, he’s given up politics. (It’s just too damn cynical for him.) He relinquished his post at the head of the town board and has decided to do cooking lessons out the back door of the mill. At first, he tried to keep us out of the loop on this, thinking we would want a cut of the profits. But you can’t keep us in the dark for more than a month or two, particularly when something is happening right under our noses. And I mean literally. The tuber has but one cooking implement, and that’s a frying pan. So whatever he’s showing people, it usually involves open flame, the pan, a gob of butter, and a whole lot of smoke. If he burns it to a crisp, he just cracks an egg over it and calls it done.
principle behind this choice – for example, the fact that the bill is flawed, that it gives too much to the insurance companies, that it doesn’t have a strong public option, that it is not a single payer plan, etc. But his reasoning appears to be based solely on political calculus. He’s reading the polling, and it’s showing a large majority of his district turning against the bill. Now, this isn’t too surprising, since the airwaves have been flooded with attack ads over the past month in particular, many sponsored by the national Chamber of Commerce (the folks who helped bring you our lack of a national health insurance plan in the first place). And, of course, they’ve stripped out some of the most popular aspects of the original plan in an attempt to please people who would never vote for the legislation in any form.
Mike’s take on this as that it should be done incrementally. Note to Congressman Arcuri: this is doing it incrementally. It would be a mistake to think of this bill as the last word on national health care. It is merely a stake in the ground, establishing the principle of a national system. Yeah, I think it’s a mess, and I’ve said so. It excludes far too many people. It preserves the profits of large sectors of our money-obsessed health care delivery system. It lacks the virtue of a public option for people who simply cannot get a decent plan in the private market. But the alternative is the wild west system (or lack of same) we have now. That is clearly unsustainable. Voting against an admittedly imperfect solution simply to please people like Don Jeror and other “tea party” basket cases is farcical, at best. 
No, it’s not my brain. It’s my list of songs. Sixty five songs and counting. Shoo-wee, right? That’s enough songs to fuel the enormous asbestos-clad boiler of the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill for a hundred years. (Well, that may be a slight exaggeration.) What was it I heard Lincoln (or anti-Lincoln) saying the other day? Oh, yeah. “A chicken’ll make you a meal… or it’ll lay enough eggs for a thousand breakfasts. A lamb – that’s about two weeks worth of mutton. Or you can have warm wool coats from now until doomsday…” That Lincoln- just brimming with frontier wisdom. (Actually, I think he borrowed that from Royal Dano in one of his more nefarious incarnations on The Big Valley, Lincoln’s favorite T.V. drama.)
Sure, there’s that. Then there are the songs that are complete and yet still in the can, never released commercially. Mostly these are recordings that have no proper album to call home. They are made in the usual Big Green way – lay out a polymer disc, slather it full of mastic, add music and apply pressure… much pressure. Then toss. Well… we tossed them a little too far, perhaps, and no one has had the energy to go and pick them up. Those will likely see the light of day at some point, though I don’t know exactly when. (Let me consult with my fellow nut cases and get back to you.)